


The Roommate

by supernaturallylost



Series: Rehabilitation [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homeless Castiel, Homelessness, M/M, Mechanic Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4361909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturallylost/pseuds/supernaturallylost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finally asks the homeless Castiel to move into the apartment he shares with his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Roommate

Cas’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry,” Dean laughed awkwardly. “I don’t ask all my dates to stay over, especially not on the first date.”

Cas’s fleeting smile quickly became a frown. He averted his eyes.

“I don’t want to cause trouble,” Cas whispered.

“Cas, please,” Dean responded. Sam started humming badly in the kitchen. “I can’t stand being alone with him much longer.”

“You don’t owe me any favors, Dean,” Cas whispered, looking away.

Dean reached out and took Cas’s hand.

“Hey,” he smiled. “We have plenty of space, and I always cook too much food for just the two of us. It would be a pleasure to have you with us for a while.”

“Oh no, Dean,” Cas shook his head. “I really don’t want to be a burden. You’ve already been kind enough. I should be in there doing the dishes.”

Cas stood up abruptly, but Dean jumped up too. He reached out and grabbed Cas’s free hand with his so that both hands were clasped loosely.

“Cas, listen,” Dean whispered. He glanced over to the kitchen. The song being hummed changed to something that sounded very much like something Disney. “I’m not asking you to stay because I feel sorry for you or because I feel obligated somehow. Cas, Sam and I used to live in a car.”

Dean dragged Cas over to the window and pointed down at a 1967 Chevrolet Impala.

“The two of us lived in that car for years,” Dean whispered. “Me and the humungous singing moose in there shared that tiny cramped space. We slept there, ate there, lived there. We relied on cheap fast food and public parks with restrooms.”

Cas’s brows furrowed and his head tilted, like he wasn’t sure if he should believe Dean.

“We spent years like that, Cas,” Dean continued quietly. “Eventually, I found an old family friend who gave me a job fixing cars. I made enough money to help Sam go to college, and he got a job working in a gym. It took a long time, but now Sam’s basically the co-owner of Bobby’s business. He does all of the book work and everything, and occasionally I do a job with the actual mechanics. We make a good living now, because we were able to ask for help when we needed it.”

Cas looked down at his hands in Dean’s. His ugly, rough scars were covered by Dean’s calloused, tanned skin. Dean rubbed his thumb over Cas’s.

“I guess,” he finally admitted, “I could use the help.”

Dean took his first deep breath in minutes. Immediately, however, Cas listed ways he could make up for taking up space.

“I could sleep on the couch. I’ll wake up early and clean up so you can use the living room whenever you need to. I can do the dishes and the laundry, and I’ll clean the bathroom and vacuum the floors. I can wash the windows and even wash your car.”

Dean started laughing.

“Really,” Cas insisted. “I can clean anything or do whatever you need done.”

Dean kept laughing, shaking his head.

“What?” Cas asked. He looked down at his hands. “Was this a joke?”

“No, no!” Dean said hurriedly. Immediately he stopped smiling and shook his head quickly. “No, I meant it, but Cas, you don’t have to do any of that. I don’t have consistent work, so I’ll be home. I do most of the cleaning and everything anyway.”

“So what will I do?” Cas whispered.

“Well,” Dean responded quickly, “you can help if I need it. Otherwise, you could relax, and we could try to build a resume for you and see if we can get you a job somewhere. If you know anything about cars or business, I’m sure Bobby would give you a part-time job.”

Cas shook his head sadly.

“No worries!” Dean smiled. “We’ll find something. Although…”

A thought came to Dean that struck him as brilliant beyond all else.

 “I do need some help with something that takes a delicate hand,” Dean said.

“What is it?” Cas asked.

Slowly, Dean led Cas down the hall, stopping at the end where there were two doors. On the right was Sam’s, but on the left was Dean’s. Dean stopped and smiled at Cas.

“This will be your room, by the way,” he smiled. “Don’t bother arguing. I’ll sleep on the couch for a while until we can get an air mattress. Then I’ll move in with Sam for a bit.”

While Cas began to argue, Dean spoke over him.

“Now, what I need help with is a big problem, and I really hope you can help with it.” Dean put his hand on the handle of his door. “Are you ready?”

Resigned, Cas nodded.

When Dean opened his door, Cas walked inside. He saw four white walls, two medium windows with views of the city, one small closet with a dresser tucked inside, a large bed, a handmade wooden nightstand, and a floor lamp. On the nightstand were three objects: a nonfiction book about ancient mythology, a picture of a blonde woman with a brown haired man and two children, and a glass of water.

“As you can see,” Dean said quietly, “it’s very plain in here. I wanted to brighten it up, but I never got around to it. You don’t happen to know how to paint, do you?”

“Sure,” Cas shrugged. “What color do you want it?”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Dean laughed. “I want the walls painted, but I want an actual painting. You know, with real art. I can pay you, of course.”

Cas shook his head. “You want me to paint something on your walls? Won’t your landlord be mad? What would I paint?”

“You’d paint anything you want to paint,” Dean responded. “And Chuck won’t mind. He’s always complaining about one thing or another, so one more won’t be enough to tip him over the edge.”

Cas smiled.

Dean smirked.

“What do you think?” Dean whispered. “Can you help?”

“Are you sure about this, Dean?” he asked lowly.

Dean smiled. “Completely.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave notes if you have any!


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